Maybe I'm Amazed
by Kath7
Summary: AI Alex has a late night visitor. PostSurprise


**Title: Maybe I'm Amazed**

**Author: Kath7**

**Category: A/I**

**Rating: Mature (ish), due to one little section**

**Summary: Post-Surprise. Alex has a late night visitor. One part.**

**AN - This was written as a birthday present for my friend, StargazerUK. (And, no, not just because I'm cheap! I bought him a real present too!) Surprise! Have a great day, David! Title comes from the song by Paul McCartney, but the version of the song inspiring this fic is by Jem.**

To say that Alex Whitman was surprised when Isabel Evans appeared at his bedroom window in the middle of the night would be an understatement.

The fact that he had completely humiliated himself at the Crashdown earlier that evening was haunting him. He had been lying on his bed, face-down, since he'd returned home, trying to forget the horror of the fact that he had done a strip-tease in front of Isabel's mother. He had hoped to escape into sleep, but the incident kept playing over and over in his mind, torturing him.

What _had_ he been thinking? How on Earth had he ever believed that doing something so ridiculous would make Isabel forget about Grant Sorenson, the man she was dating, (and that's what Grant was - a _man_, while he was just a kid) and return to him? The whole plan had been idiotic, and had clearly demonstrated just how immature he really was, thinking that Isabel would like it. It had been his stupid attempt at making her laugh, which she had, but when it was over, he had the distinct impression that it had been _at_ him and not _with_ him. Because, after, she had not spoken to him, and had, in fact, completely disappeared from her own birthday party.

But, now, she had turned up outside his bedroom window at two in the morning. Why?

Alex stared out at Isabel, frowning slightly. She had stepped back after knocking on the window, and was standing slightly in shadow. He could tell that she was still wearing the long ballgown from earlier. She obviously hadn't been home.

"Hi," she said in a small voice.

"Hi?" Alex replied questioningly. "What's wrong?" Because obviously something was. Alex couldn't think of any other reason for Isabel to be outside his house at this time of night. Something had clearly happened. He hoped it wasn't anything alien. He was too tired to run for his life tonight.

In fact, if he was asked to do so, he might just yell at her. He was tired of this. He was tired of everything. Tired of always being at her beck and call when she needed him, but never reaping the reward of it. She was not his girlfriend. She wasn't in love with him. He knew that now. She didn't love him at all…Okay, fine, maybe as a friend, but not how he loved her. Not only that, but she had laughed at him while he made a fool of himself, _for_ her.

Alex crossed his arms and waited, prepared to tell her to go find Grant, if she needed someone to drive her to the latest alien rendezvous or something. Let Grant be her go-to guy. He was done.

But, then, of course, everything changed. Because, without trying to answer him at all, much to Alex's amazement, Isabel Evans burst into tears.

This was not the first time that Alex had seen Isabel cry. She had wept tears of panic when Max had been captured by the F.B.I. Her eyes had shone with fearful tears in other times gone by, too. Her control had never completely left her though, even in those awful instances.

This time, however, there was nothing controlled about the great, gulping sobs that made Isabel stumble forward into the window sill. She needed it to hold herself up. Alex took advantage of her position to grab her hands. He pulled her over the sill, and they both tumbled unceremoniously onto the floor on the other side of his window seat.

That was when things got _really_ weird. Because, suddenly, Alex found himself with Isabel sprawled across him. She was still sobbing slightly, but as she lifted her head and met his eyes, he saw something shift through the shadows that covered her face.

In the next instant, she was kissing him. Just like that. He couldn't help himself. He kissed her back. After all, this was Isabel.

So they went from "We're not going to a movie, Alex" to all of his teenage fantasies coming true in about ten seconds flat. He was on the floor in his own bedroom, and Isabel Evans was trying to undress him. And he was letting her. In fact, much to his absolute disbelief, the t-shirt he had worn to bed was flying through the air.

Good God. It was finally happening. She was finally his. Thank you, God. Thank you!

This was the only coherent though Alex could manage, as he kissed her with joyful abandon. Until, through the miasma of lust, he became aware of the fact that his face was wet.

Because she was still crying.

How he managed to disentangle himself from her was beyond his comprehension. His entire body was screaming, "You idiot! What are you doing?" But his heart…his heart knew that it could not take another beating. There was something entirely wrong about this, and he wasn't going to be used again. Not _again_.

"Isabel," he said weakly. "Stop." And, then, when she continued to rain kisses down his jaw, which made his heart beat so loudly, he could barely think straight through the pounding, "Isabel!"

It was loud, it might very well bring his parents stumbling sleepily into his bedroom, but it worked. She took her lips off of him, sitting back on her knees, with her black dress flowing gracefully around her.

Except it wasn't particularly graceful, that dress. Not anymore. Alex scowled. He reached out, flicked on the lamp on his bed-side table. "What the…"

She was a mess. Her dress was ripped, her hair was tumbling down around her shoulders, and her face was smeared with dirt. And the expression she was wearing…Alex felt his heart contract with a combination of pity, love and, then, rage.

But he couldn't let her see that. Not after what he was guessing had happened to her. The last thing she needed now was for him to freak out on her. Alex moved towards her slowly, reaching out with a trembling hand to touch her face, so that she had to look at him. "Who did this? Was it Grant?"

Isabel shook her head slowly, but didn't speak. "Can we get off the floor?" she whispered.

Alex reacted instantly, jumping to his feet, then gently grasping her under the elbows and helping her up. They both collapsed on the bed, although Alex retrieved his shirt first. Alex put his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him gratefully.

He didn't pressure her to talk, but he could feel anger winding its way through his veins. He hoped that he didn't feel too tense under her, that she was gaining some comfort, but he couldn't relax. His mind was whirling in about a thousand different directions, trying to figure out what to do.

The first thing to do was to call the sheriff. Sheriff Valenti would arrest Grant for this.

But, wait. Isabel might not want that kind of attention. They could ill afford it at this time. They had only just rid themselves of the Special Unit, thanks to Nasedo. The law might not be the way to go…

Not to mention, if the law got involved, then Alex wouldn't be allowed to beat Grant Sorenson into a bloody pulp. And that would be unacceptable.

So, then. New plan. First step. He would call Michael. Michael would help him. And if Michael said they should, they'd call Max too. But Alex wasn't sure if Max would be able to handle this. Max would want to kill Grant. Not that Alex didn't want to, but Alex also knew that leaving someone alive was often the scarier proposition for that person. And, although Michael would be more than ready to commit murder on Isabel's behalf, Michael had also already killed someone. Michael would be more careful, because he already knew what it felt like. He wouldn't want to do it again.

Plus, Michael was meaner. He would want to keep Grant alive too. Because if he was alive, they could make him suffer. For a long time.

"I need to call Michael," Alex muttered to himself. He mentally kicked himself though, when he felt Isabel stiffen against him.

"No!" she said. She moved away slightly, turning so that she could look at Alex. "He can't know, Alex. He can't! Max can't either."

"We have to do something," Alex insisted. "Isabel, let me call Michael."

"No," Isabel replied firmly. "Besides, he already knows most of it. Just not the last bit. And he can't. He can't know."

"What do you mean he already knows most of it?" Alex demanded, aghast. "And he's okay with it?"

Isabel lowered her gaze, then said softly, "He understands what happened. He understands better than anyone."

Alex stared at her in disbelief. It was the lunacy of her comment that made him understand that he was maybe not listening to the right story. "Isabel, did Grant Sorenson rape you?" he asked abruptly. He knew it probably wasn't the right way to say it, if it had happened, but he needed to know the truth. He needed to make sure that they were on the same wave-length here. Because the idea that Michael Guerin would _ever_ understand any of this…It just made no sense.

Isabel's head jerked up. "No!" she exclaimed, making Alex looked towards his door nervously. Isabel's eyes widened, as she understood that his parents were sleeping close by. "No," she repeated quietly. "That's not what happened." Alex felt a rush of relief, but, also, concern. If she hadn't been raped, then why did she look like this? Why was she here? And why was she seeking comfort from him for the first time in months?

"Then what's going on?" Alex asked, his tone colder than he meant it to be, because he was embarrassed - again. He didn't know what to expect anymore. Isabel Evans had just jumped his bones. It seemed a little ridiculous now that he had assumed she'd been sexually assaulted, because that would have been the last thing she would have done.

Isabel frowned slightly. She no longer seemed as upset, actually, but, instead, seemed quite ready to talk rationally. "Didn't you hear about what happened to Tess?"

"To Tess?" Alex asked, confused. "No. I didn't even see her tonight. I came home right after…" he trailed off. "Well, you know." He looked away. "Obviously you didn't miss me," he muttered ironically.

There was a long pause. "No, I didn't," Isabel finally admitted, sending what felt like a metal spike through Alex's heart. "But it's not what you think, Alex," she said quickly, when she apparently caught the look on his face.

"What isn't?" he asked, sighing slightly. "It's always what I think, Isabel. It's always the same story, isn't it?"

"Alex, you don't understand," Isabel said. "I was preoccupied all night. Because of Tess. I was having visions of her in trouble. That's why I didn't thank you…"

"Thank me for what?" he asked. "For making a fool of myself again?"

"No," Isabel whispered, so softly, he looked at her to make sure she had actually spoken. Her dark eyes were luminous with unshed tears. "For making me laugh," she said, her voice a little stronger. "For being the only one who knows how to. For being the only one who can ever make me feel better when something horrible happens."

Alex felt his heart contract when she leaned forward, planting a gentle kiss on his lips. He stared at her, when she pulled back, meeting his eyes.

"Are you ready to listen to me now? I came here because I needed you. _You_, Alex. After what happened tonight, you were the only one I wanted to see. Max wanted to take me home, but I knew that I had to do a few things first. I went to the pod chamber, and then I came here, because you were the only person I wanted." She bit her lip, glancing away. "And I still need you, Alex. That's why I came, I admit it." She took a deep breath, then looked back at him, taking his hands in hers. "But I think maybe you need me first, don't you?"

"I don't know," Alex replied honestly. Because he didn't. He had no idea what to say. He felt like maybe he should be happy, but he still wasn't sure exactly what Isabel was saying to him.

"Alex, I know I've hurt you this past summer," Isabel said softly. "I know I've been completely wrapped up in myself. It's just that it's all been so hard. To find out that we actually do have a purpose for being here…it was really scary. Because I sort of liked not knowing. I liked my life. I love my parents, and I love Roswell. I don't want to have to leave. This past year as been the worst one of my life. The only good thing about it was you." She met his eyes, yet again, as though willing him to believe her. "That's why I distanced myself from you, Alex. Because I thought I might have to leave _you_. And I knew that it would be even harder if I let myself feel all the things I feel for you. If I let this happen…" She lifted one hand away from his, pointing at him, then her, "I knew that it would just be ten times worse."

"But, you're here," Alex said, amazed that his voice sounded so calm, when every nerve ending in his body was tingling. "You're here now. What's changed?" He looked down. "What about Grant?"

"Grant…he's nice, but I only liked him because he knew nothing about anything," Isabel said firmly. "I know that now. I think that's another reason I pushed you away. You know too much. You know _me_, and I just wanted to go back. Back to before we got that message from our mother, and back to before Nasedo, and back to before anyone knew about us. Then I could pretend that everything was just as it always had been."

"That still doesn't tell me why you're here," Alex reminded her gently. "Isabel, what changed your mind?"

"After what happened tonight, all I wanted was you. I _need_ someone who gets me. Who knows everything about me. That's what I want. Until tonight, I don't think I even knew that I was pretending I didn't, but I do."

Alex frowned. "Isabel, what happened tonight, exactly? You said that Tess was in danger?"

Isabel's eyes filled with tears again. "Alex, I killed someone."

The whole story came out. How Whittaker had been a Skin. How she had kidnapped Tess, and Isabel had saved her. How Isabel had been forced to kill Whittaker.

Alex's mouth fell open in shock as she recounted the events of the evening. He started to feel guilty that he had been so preoccupied with his own humiliation. His insignificant, stupid embarrassment about having tried to please her, to no avail.

How could he be so selfish? How could he not have recognized that Isabel needed time to sort out everything that was changing in her life, and that he had been pressuring her for a commitment she wasn't ready for?

And, then, the bombshell…

"She told me stuff, Alex. Before I killed her."

Alex could see that she was haunted by this, even more than by the fact that she had killed the congresswoman, which he had already assured her was not her fault. That she'd had no choice.

"Isabel, whatever she told you…you know you can't believe her, right?" She didn't respond. Alex tucked his index finger under her chin, raising her face so that she had to meet his gaze. "Isabel, you can't believe her."

"You don't understand," Isabel said. "I know she was telling me the truth. She didn't want to hurt me, Alex. She wanted me to join them."

"What, was she nuts?" Alex demanded. "You would never do something like that. They killed Nasedo!"

Isabel shook her head. "That was my fault too. I'm sure it was so they could get close to me. She only took Tess to figure out which of us was Vilandra."

"Vilandra?" Alex felt his eyes widen.

"My name was Vilandra," Isabel whispered, her expression indicating that she was drifting away. "I betrayed my family…"

"Isabel!" Alex grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her gently. "Isabel, listen to me. It doesn't matter what she told you. It doesn't even matter if it was true. You're not the same person!"

"But, I am, Alex," Isabel told him. "I know I am. I can _feel_ it." She pressed a hand to her heart. "I know she's still in here. And I'm so scared. Because she thought I would join her. She thought I'd turn on Max and Michael again. And, if I'm still Vilandra…what if she's right?"

Isabel's dark eyes were wide, haunted. Alex felt at a loss for words. Because how could he ever convince her that she wouldn't - that he _knew_ her - if she believed already that she would?

There was only one way.

"Isabel, I already know you won't," Alex replied firmly. "I know it. But if you don't, then we're going to have to find a way to make you believe it."

Isabel bit her lip. She was slouching slightly, the weight of her guilt and fear affecting her usually perfect posture. Alex wondered how anyone could ever not see the _real_ Isabel. She was so open, so vulnerable, so the complete opposite of the ice queen the world thought her to be. He had always seen it. He saw it even more clearly now. No one who could be this upset at the idea of hurting her brothers would ever do so. She was the most compassionate person he knew.

But, if Alex was honest, he did get why people saw her as difficult and cold. Because she could be that way. She had been that way to _him_, after all, this past summer. She did have flaws, but he loved those flaws just as much as he loved her perfections.

Looking at her now, Alex wondered how he could ever have believed her when she pushed him away. He knew now that he had to be patient if he wanted her. That she was so fragile deep down, he had to be the strong one. For her.

There was no more time left for doubt. It didn't matter if she turned on him again tomorrow morning, after she'd had a chance to sleep on it. When it was no longer the middle of the night, and she felt safe again in the bright desert sunshine. He would not let her turn him away again. No matter how much she hurt him, moments like this made it all worth while.

He would remember this night. Remember her words. He would remember that she didn't want to hurt him, but that who she was might do so. It was worth it. Being with her was more than worth it. Even if it was only until she left someday.

"How?" Isabel asked softly, still thinking about his comment that they could make her believe in herself again.

"We'll find out the truth," Alex said. "We'll find out all there is to know about Vilandra, and you'll see that it either wasn't true…or, if it was, she had a good reason." He paused, then admitted, "Although, I don't know how exactly."

He watched her spine straighten, as a slight smile touched her lips. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you, Alex. You're the only one I trust. Thank you for believing in me."

"I always have, Isabel," Alex reminded her. "Why do you think I refused to give up on you?"

"I don't deserve you," she said quietly.

"Yes, you do," Alex insisted. "Because you came here, you do. If you want me, then you deserve me. As far as I'm concerned, you'll always have me."

She didn't reply, but Alex didn't mind. Because she kissed him again. And he finally felt it then. She really did love him. She might not say it - not right away - but he knew that she did.

And, for now, it was enough. She had come to him, she wanted _him_, and it meant everything.

"The granilith," Isabel said, suddenly, against Alex's lips.

"The what?" Alex asked, his mind whirling slightly at the abrupt change in her demeanor.

"The granilith," Isabel repeated. "I found it. Tonight. In the pod chamber. It was what the Skins wanted. Other than me."

Alex shrugged, his heart still pounding, his eyes still trained on her lips. "I guess that's the place to start then."

Isabel seemed to become aware of his slight pre-occupation, though, because she smiled. When he raised his eyes to hers, they were twinkling. For the first time since Max had been taken by the F.B.I, her fire had returned. Alex felt his heart sigh with satisfaction.

He had done that. It was him. And, finally, she was ready to allow him to be the one who could.

"Tomorrow," Isabel said now, still smiling. "We'll start tomorrow."

For Alex, as he kissed her again, the idea that there would be a tomorrow with Isabel Evans was the happiest news he had ever heard.

The End


End file.
